"Do so."
"Again I ask, can I trust you?"
"You can."
"In a matter purely personal?"
"Yes."
"Then I will declare that I have reason to suspect that the rascal, Alphonse Donetti, has fascinated my niece, and I fear the girl has been deliberately deceiving me."
Our hero made no comment, and the old lady continued:
"At the terror of fearing that my own flesh and blood has been fascinated by a thief—in my opinion a born thief—the son of a thief—a low, vile, reckless scoundrel, yes, that is what I fear. It was this suspicion that caused me to leave Paris. And now, Oscar Dunne, you can make your fortune. I am a very rich woman; I can pay a great price. I want you to aid me to save my niece, even if she is compelled to gaze on the dead face of her lover."
"Madam, what do you mean? Can you believe that money will tempt me to commit a murder?"
"No, sir, I am not a murderess, but I believe money will induce you to bring a murderer to justice, and have him hung as he deserves."